


C'est la Zetsumei

by Kuroeia (Empatheia)



Category: Bleach, Inuyasha - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-17
Updated: 2008-02-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2604128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empatheia/pseuds/Kuroeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old fic, cross-posted from FFNet. Written on request.</p><p>Requester: Numisma<br/>Prompt: wind</p>
            </blockquote>





	C'est la Zetsumei

"Ouch," said Byakuya. "That was really rude, you know."

 

There was red dust in his mouth. The wind, gusting resentfully down the crooked alleyway he sat in, was dry on his skin. The sea was nowhere in sight, and neither was Naraku. That presented somewhat of a problem. It was difficult to scold someone who wasn't present.

 

He looked around in distaste at the sloppy, dispirited rows of buildings around him, and up at the unpleasantly greyish sky, then down at the mess of dirt on his robes from his unceremonious landing. There were people in the alleyway with him, he realized. Oddly enough, hardly any of them gave him a second glance while passing, and even more oddly, not all of them were Japanese. There were gaijin here, filthy and dull-eyed, their pale hair and pinkish skin jarring to his eyes.

 

Byakuya realized with growing irritation that he was most likely dead. An entire lifetime of unwavering loyalty and service to his sire, often at great personal risk, and this was the thanks he got?

 

The afterlife was singularly unpleasant. At least, this town was. He hoped sincerely that it didn't make up all of this world.

 

It didn't, he found out from a slightly more awake passerby he managed to corner and interrogate. The man also told him many other interesting things about this place— Soul Society— and how it worked with a little persuasion. Byakuya thanked him graciously, stole some food from a nearby stall, and left town on his feather, which thankfully still functioned.

 

It was many years before anyone found him.

 

x

 

Byakuya was intrigued to find that he couldn't decide whether or not he liked this person.

 

Certainly his taste in attire and adornments was top-notch, and his air of quiet power was certainly impressive, but he made a terrible conversationalist. All he seemed capable of were questions.

 

"I will ask once again," said the person who shared his name, "who— and _what_ — are you?"

 

"I told you," Byakuya replied waspishly, his estimate of this person's intelligence dropping rapidly. "I'm Byakuya, born of Naraku. I am youkai."

 

The Other Byakuya narrowed his eyes. "You said that already. I am telling you that it's impossible. Youkai are extinct, and even before they vanished, every single one of them became a Hollow upon death. You are not a Hollow, ergo, you were not youkai."

 

Byakuya rolled his eyes. How astonishingly simple-minded. "Oh, please. You know as well as I do that there are many exceptions to that. I have been here for... a while, and I've seen them. Who do you think the forefathers of your vaunted Kuchiki line were? Or those of the Shihouin family? That ability of their first-born children to transform into cats is hardly common among humans. And what, pray tell, do you call your dear compatriot Komamura? I think, to avoid confusion, I'll call you Baka-Byakuya. I trust you have no objections."

 

Baka-Byakuya's face turned thunderous. "My family is not decended from demons," he said, slowly and evenly, apparently choosing to ignore the other insult.

 

A brilliantly amused smile split Byakuya's face. "Oh, I really beg to differ," he nearly cooed. "I even know _which_ demon, or at least I knew his grandson. Gigantic jerk, he was, but pretty enough to make up for it. Had these eyes that could turn a girl's knees— or a boy's, for that matter— to mush at fifty paces. Couldn't crack a smile with a sledgehammer, but had the whole fatal-glare genre down pat. Much like yourself, as a matter of fact. I'm sure you would loathe each other."

 

"You are attempting to distract me," Baka-Byakuya said hopefully. "I have come to request your appearance in the Court of Pure Souls in two day's time. There is a war brewing, and it has been noted that you are possessed of some measure of power. Your assistance would be greatly appreciated."

 

"I'll pass, thanks," he replied serenely, inspecting his nails and smiling inwardly. "I have a history of maintaining neutrality whenever possible. A reputation to uphold. You know how it goes. I see no real reason to help you, especially since I'm still rather annoyed at your— er, uncle? I'm terrible at these lineage things— for not even batting an eyelash at my imminent demise despite all the meaningful looks and sexual tension we'd shared."

 

Looking as though it hurt him greatly to even think about what he was doing, the other Byakuya bowed stiffly to forty-five degrees. "Please reconsider."

 

Byakuya crowed delightedly and considered the dark bent head before him. "Why did they send you, of all people? They should have known better and sent someone who doesn't half-herniate himself at the thought of asking nicely." He paused. "But then again, I'd have thrown anyone else out in a heartbeat, so perhaps they're not stupid after all. I'm not guaranteeing anything, here, you understand, but have a seat and tell me about this supposed war of yours. I hope you like tea?"

 

The other Byakuya straightened, glared at him mutinously, then caught himself and nodded. "I... don't dislike it."

 

X


End file.
